The Wyvern and the Serpent
by ToxicCosmos
Summary: AU. There have been two depictions of the wyvern throughout history - those adorned on the shields and crests of noble men, and those said to be born of the fires of hell.
1. A Chance Meeting

**Chapter 1: A Chance Meeting**

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter.

* * *

Platform 9 ¾ - the beginning of another year.

Draco's 5th year to be exact and he was glad to be back.

His summer had been almost unbearable. He had spent most of his time at home – avoiding his mother's constant nagging and his father's constant ranting by spending most of his time in his room.

Even there all he could really do was read, which wasn't so bad - despite what others thought, he really did enjoy his classes and got high marks in every one of them. But all too often, just as he would get comfortable with a book, the portrait in his room thought it fitting to question him about it and seemingly every five minutes thereafter. After the fifth or so time of _What are you reading?_ and the fourth or so time of _The same thing I was reading the last time you asked!_ He'd decide he need to get out of the house.

He'd then wander the property, a book and scroll in hand, searching for some place to get some real solitude. There he'd sit, under a tree or by the lake, finishing his books one by one; the parchment quickly filing with key points of what he read – and the occasional lazy doodle – before he'd go in for lunch or dinner.

He didn't mind being alone. He actually preferred the non-existent company than any real – bound to be terrible – company he could get from anyone else. Eventually of course, his mother would complain. "All that reading and thinking is going to mar your naturally good looks and give you wrinkles, you know." She'd warn before banishing him from the house, telling him to go play with his friends.

Crabbe and Goyle. He wouldn't exactly call them his friends. They were lackeys, nothing more. And yet he knew that they were probably the closest things he had to friends. He tried not to think how pathetic that sounded.

His father always told him that one in his position - of his caliber and breeding - could not truly have friends.

"Sad but true." He had said in his usual tone of mock melancholy. "We are Malfoy's," he explained, "we tolerate the presence of most and employ the presence of others, but we only make…_ friends_…" he said the word as if it was something distasteful in his mouth, "of the purest and most capable of wizards. Do you understand?"

"Of course, father."

/

Draco stood for a long while, watching the people on the platform. There were noticeably fewer students this year, but he couldn't tell if it was because they had already gotten onto the train or because of what had happened the year before. Lesser ranks of the wizarding community tended to become timid in uncertain times like these. Especially with the rumors going around.

He smirked to himself thinking about the recent newspaper articles, wondering if Potter would have the galls to return or if he even knew what the papers had been saying about him. No doubt he would have more than his usual foes to contend with this year. _All the better, _he thought to himself as he decided it time to board the train.

Turning briskly, he found himself hitting something that wasn't supposed to be there. 'Watch where you're going!' He almost growled, getting as far as "Watch whe-" when, straitening himself, he noticed whom he had run into and his voice hitched in his throat.

His mind noted the robes she wore. _Another student,_ it said, though he was hardly listening. She was brushing her clothes down after having picked herself up off the floor.

She seemed to be about the same age as he, slightly taller, with short spiked jet-black hair, cream-colored skin and – she looked up – _oh,_ striking steel-gray eyes. For a moment he just stood there, a grin playing at his face as he regarded her.

The girl raised an eyebrow at him in response, looking him over with a stern look on her face. "Sorry." He said, finally finding his voice. When she didn't reply, he continued, "I guess I should've been more careful…" He scratched his head absently, slightly puzzled by his sudden need to apologize and explain himself. "Hmm," was her only response as she took one last questioning look at him and walked off towards the train.

"I'm Draco by the way." He said. She gave no indication that she had heard him.

/

Having followed her onto the train, Draco noticed her head towards the rooms that he himself usually took as his own.

He also noticed the absence of Crabbe and Goyle. It was unlike them to not come running to flank him on both sides, his personal bodyguards that they were. _Just as well, _he thought. He'd much rather keep the company of this girl who now sat across from him.

He had been watching her for nearly an hour now as she stared out the window, seemingly attempting to deter any thought he had in speaking with her by feigning interest in the scenery. _Quite successfully I might add, _he thought bitterly to himself.

Then again, maybe she did find the landscape interesting. He himself had long since forgotten its beauty, having seen it for the past several years. And he was certain he had never seen _her_ before today.

He frowned slightly, remembering how he had acted with her - stammering and apologizing as if he had done something wrong. His father would disapprove. _He_ disapproved. He didn't know why, but he found her to be intriguing. Certainly she was beautiful and while that may have been what caught him off-guard at first, it certainly wouldn't have been enough to keep him interested. Beauty had never been enough for Draco. He was used to beautiful pure-blooded witches pining after him, and while they were good for some fun, he had never found himself intrigued with any of them for a prolonged period of time.

No, it was something else. She didn't respond to him the same way most did. Most - knowing who he was; his family, their stature, what they represented – knew how to behave around him. They either tred on glass or they all but groveled at his feet. She didn't. She pretty much ignored him. It was something he wasn't used to and it had him transfixed.

He silently wondered how much longer would be appropriate to wait before speaking to her.

"Would you dears care for some sweets?" Having been so wrapped up in his thoughts, Draco hadn't noticed that the trolley had stopped at the doorway while making its usual rounds.

"Do you want anything?" He asked her, sensing this to be a good time to ease into a conversation.

Shaking her head absently, Draco frowned. She was certainly determined to remain quiet. "I'll take two Chocolate Frogs and two bags of Bott's Every Flavor Beans." he said, deciding that despite her refusal, she may still yet want some.

"You're more than welcome to some whenever you want." He muttered as the trolley disappeared down the hall.

"Kiera." Came the unfamiliar voice.

Startled he turned to the girl now looking at him. "I'm sorry?" He asked awkwardly, inwardly cursing himself for sounding like an idiot.

"That's my name." She said, with a sliver of irritation in her voice that made him grin.

"Ah, Kiera, nice to meet you." He said, noticing her accent.

"Hmm." She half smiled. It could have been in agreement or dismissal.

"Have you been here long?" He asked hurriedly before she could turn back to the window. Seeing her eyebrows furrow in confusion, he added, "It's just that I've never seen you here before... and I'm certain I'd remember you if I had." He smiled, weakly. _Lamely,_ he thought.

She smiled briefly, but warmly.

She seemed like she was about to reply when the long-forgotten Crabbe and Goyle walked passed the room. "Oi!" Called one to the other as he stuck his head back into the room and noticed Draco. "I've found him."

Looking at his watch, Draco laughed. "Only took you forty-five minutes. Where have you two been?" He asked, not really caring.

Crabbe, or maybe it was Goyle - he never really cared enough to get it straight - looked a bit sheepish. "We uh... got distracted." He said with a grin that made Draco sure he didn't want to know what he meant. "Fine." he said, waving off any further comment.

Croyle, as he preferred to think of them, noticed the girl opposite him. One looked between him and Kiera – a grin playing on his face - while the other openly gawked at her. "Who's the beaut'?" asked the later, sitting himself next to her as he shot a glance at Draco.

"This is my new friend, Kiera." He stated dryly.

Whichever half of Croyle had sat himself down next to her inched a little closer. "Oh yea? Kiera what?" He asked her while adding, "She your new toy, Draco?" with a devilish smile. "I'd sure like her to be mine if you're not using her." He muttered, moving his hand towards her leg.

Before Draco had a chance to reply, Kiera had her wand at the Croyle-half's neck. "I don't think that would be wise." She hissed at him. To his benefit, the Croyle-half turned slightly pale. Draco couldn't help but grin. "Nor is it wise to talk that way about a woman - especially while in her company. Don't you agree?" She continued, shoving her wand hard into his neck. Draco smirked as the Croyle-half nodded. "Good boy. Now why don't you take your other half and run along... before my wand slips and you _accidentally_ loose a limb." She threatened as her wand drifted down; her eyes growing dark, showing just how serious she was. The Croyle-half turned a shade paler as he got up to leave.

"I'll see you two when we get to Hogwarts." Draco stated as they left and Kiera turned back towards the window, scowling.

Draco stared at her for a long while, a smile dancing on his face. It wasn't often that a girl could scare the two slabs of meat that had just left - even with her thinly veiled threat. He decided that she was definitely worth getting to know.

Sitting back, he knew this was going to be an interesting year.


	2. The Guessing Game

**Chapter 2: The Guessing Game**

* * *

Kiera sat, staring out the window, watching the landscape pass by her. _How dare he._ She said angrily to herself. That disgusting creature actually thought he could talk to her and _about_ her like that? Disgusting, boorish creature. She had been so furious she was tempted to hex and castrate him where he had been sitting.

Eventually her thoughts settled and the passing landscape reminded her of home. Although, there weren't many rolling hills to speak of where she was from. The land there was mostly flat. She sighed, almost wishing she could be back. To be on her way to her own school, but she knew that she couldn't – that she had never had any choice in the matter.

"Why?" She had demanded to know when he had told her they were moving.

"You know very well why, Kiera." he said in a stern voice that meant she wasn't to question him further.

"I don't see why they need you." she couldn't help but say.

Her father had given her a stern look then – knowing full well that he would never have let anyone else continue a conversation he had clearly ended – but only replied in his usual dry but soft tone of voice that he used so often with her. "It's quite an honor; you know they rarely look outside Britain for new recruits."

"I know. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

He sat on the arm of the chair she stood near – a sign that he was getting weary with their conversation but that he didn't want to simply end it knowing how upset it had made her. "I won't lie to you," he began, "It will be dangerous. There are never guarantees that everything will turn out as we want it to." he said solemnly, "But I am good at what I do, if I weren't, they wouldn't have come to me." He placed his hand on her shoulder, a now resolute look on his face. "We take care of our own, Kiera."

She had nodded absently; she had heard him say that many times before. His faith in his colleagues was understandable – for they were powerful wizards and witches – but it was troubling nonetheless. She had long learned that you couldn't truly trust anyone except family and she had tried raising her concerns with him on a few occasions only to be met by his solemn nod and dismissive shoulder. She feared his faith – or was it loyalty? – would be his downfall. It made her chest feel tight.

All she knew was that she had to do what she could to help. It would be expected of her.

_But what could she do?_ She knew it would be difficult beginning here as a 5th year. It put her at a distinct disadvantage. She bit her lip, thinking back to the advice her father had given her.

"Make friends." He had said that morning. "The right ones." He had quickly added before leaving her on the platform.

She turned to look at the boy sitting across from her who was now leafing through a book. Draco Malfoy. He hadn't needed to tell her his name. It was evident in his platinum hair and gray eyes. _Draco Malfoy,_ she said to herself, _son of Lucius Malfoy. I suppose he will do._

Turning back to the window, she stared out at the landscape until they arrived at their destination.

Slowly Kiera stood as the train came to a halt. "We're here." Draco said. His ability to state the obvious amused her, though she didn't let it show on her face. Gathering her things, she walked out into the corridor and was immediately taken by the current of students headed towards the exits.

Glancing back, she noticed Draco stepping into the crowd several meters behind her. Seeing the somewhat agitated look on his face, she figured he hadn't seen her leave. _Lucky me, _she grinned. It would give her time to think more clearly if she didn't have him crowding her very sensitive personal space for a while.

Finally she made it out of the train, still with no Draco in sight. Continuing to follow the crowd she eventually found herself in front of the gates that led to the castle grounds. Following the lead of the other students, she climbed into a carriage led by a strange, large, black bat-winged horse. She stared at it for a moment, thinking it to be the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

"Thestral." She heard next to her. She turned, startled to not have realized that she was sitting with a few other students – _obviously_, she chided herself. She found herself facing a young witch, approximately her age with pale blue eyes, long scraggly dirty blond hair and an unusual dreamy look on her face. "It's a thestral." She repeated.

"I see." Kiera stated waningly, turning back to look at the beautiful creature before them.

"I was just explaining to Harry about them."

Kiera looked at the two boys and other girl sitting in the carriage with them. "I'm Harry," said a dark haired boy with green eyes and wire-rim glasses, "and this is Ron," gesturing to the red-headed boy to his right.

"Hi." Said the boy, weakly.

"and Luna," to the girl who had spoken of the thestral, who said nothing but maintained that look of not-quite-lucidity.

"and Hermione." finished Harry, gesturing to the frizzled-haired girl on his left.

"Nice to meet you!" Hermione eagerly said, enthusiastically shaking Kiera's hand. "I don't believe I've seen you here before, are you new?"

She was smiling broadly, making Kiera feel unusually ill at ease. "Yes, I am. My name is Kiera… Nice to meet you all."

"Where are you from?" Ron choked out. "I mean… I just noticed… uhm… your accent." Kiera noticed the dark look Hermione shot him. "Don't be rude, Ron!" She said.

"No, it's ok." Kiera smirked. "Though I would be rather interested if you could tell." She looked at Hermione. "You seem like you'd have a good chance of guessing."

Hermione seemed to blush. "Well, uhm..." she began. "Your accent is very faint, It's kind of difficult to tell.

Kiera laughed. "I suppose. How about a guess?"

"Oh 'mione doesn't guess." Ron said, causing Harry to burst out into laughter.

"Oh get off it, it's not that funny." Hermione said, hitting Harry in the arm and trying to reach Ron.

"It is too funny, 'mione" Harry said, his eyes watery. "You couldn't bring yourself to guess about anything if your life depended on it."

"I could too!" Hermione said.

"Prove it." Ron said.

"Ok. Fine." Hermione replied, straitening herself and turning back towards Kiera, "Judging by..."

"Hey now, that's not guessing." Harry said.

"Yea, no cheating." Ron added.

"That's not cheating. It's called an educated guess!" Hermione defended.

"Pff, in other words, not a guess at all." Ron muttered.

_Merlin,_ Kiera thought to herself. Was a simple act of guessing where she was from so difficult? She was actually starting to miss Malfoy, at leas t the boy knew when to stop talking.

Finally they arrived at the castle and were getting out of the carriage, Ron and Harry just having somewhat correctly _guessed_ where she was from when she heard her name being called.

"Miss. Vogel," it came from her right. Turning she found herself facing a man she assumed to be one of the professors.

"Professor Snape," came the almost simultaneous confirmation from the trio. Luna still seemed pleasantly absent from what was going on around her.

The man was clad in black, from his feet to his coat and cloak. Even his hair and eyes were as black as onyx. His skin was pale – made paler in contrast to the rest of him. He seemed to be in his forties, his face deeply wrinkled in places that showed he spent most of his time with narrowed slits for eyes and an almost permanent scowl.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger." The man dryly acknowledged in turn. "What a surprise."

As the trio bid her farewell – giving the professor a look that spoke volumes about what they thought of him – she noticed that most of the other students also seemed put-off by his presence.

"Professor." She stated.

"Miss Vogel." He repeated. "The Headmaster sent me to get you. He wishes to speak to you before the – _festivities_ – begin." He said dryly. She mused he considered tonight's festivities to be anything but festive. Nodding at his statement, she accompanied him to the castle.


	3. The Sorting

**Chapter 3: The Sorting**

* * *

Professor Snape was more than a little agitated at having to retrieve this newest student – no doubt soon-to-be nuisance – for the Headmaster. As if it wasn't bad enough receiving a new batch of imbeciles and having to deal with the bloody trio of Gryffindors in his classes; now he had a new 5th year to deal with and from the look of her new choice of friends, 5th year Potions with the Gryffindors would be getting much more difficult to deal with.

"I see you've made some friends already." He said dryly. It was unlike him to wonder about any given student's choice of friends, but given the circumstance, he figured he should have a bit of warning if she was indeed going to cause him more grief.

"Hardly." He heard her laugh as they began to climb the various staircases.

Surprised, Snape turned to look at her with a questioning raise of his brow. "Is that so?" he questioned, "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger seemed to like you."

"How unfortunate for them," She shrugged. "for I can hardly profess to sharing their sentiments."

Snape would have smiled if he were capable of it. "And why, may I ask, is that?"

Now it was her turn to raise her brow at him. "I did not think you to be the type to care about the interactions of students." She said with a smirk.

"I don't." he stated. "Though I find it..." He paused briefly, searching for the right word.

"Amusing?" Kiera offered.

"Interesting." Snape decided as they came to the statue that led to the headmaster's office. "Those three seem to make friends with just about anyone." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, professor, I see where your logic fails you."

"Honeysuckle." Snape gave as the password to the Headmaster's office. "And where would that be?" He asked her as he motioned to the now open door.

"I am most certainly not anyone." Kiera stated, almost coldly, as she ascended the final staircase to Dumbledore's office.

It was a surprisingly long flight up, which was probably a good thing seeing as her pointed conversation with professor Snape had her a little worked up.

She was quite aware of who Harry Potter was. The-Boy-Who-Lived. And though she was certain that outside of Britain, his fame was all but vaguely noted, there were places where his identity was just as well-known as it was here – and she just so happened to be from such a place.

_Damn. _She cursed silently to herself. Is this why they had moved to Britain? Why she was here at Hogwarts? She needed to have a chat with her father. She needed to know what was expected of her. And soon.

By the time she reached the Headmaster's doors, she was once again in her normal state of mind – alert and focused.

"Come in." She heard before she had a chance to even knock.

Walking into the room, she swept one long gaze about it – taking mental note of what she saw before she settled upon the man standing behind a large desk. "Headmaster." She nodded curtly.

The twinkle in the old man's eyes seemed to brighten with amusement. "Please, call me Professor Dumbledore."

She nodded as a moment passed where the professor seemed to be waiting for her to say something. When she remained silent, he continued, "Miss Vogel, I wish to personally welcome you to Hogwarts. It is quite unusual to receive new students who are well into their years of study, but I have no doubt that you will adjust to your classes with ease. Your marks are very good and your past instructors speak very highly of you. Our staff is looking forward to having you in their classes." He assured.

Kiera couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at the thought of Professor Snape looking forward to anything.

"But there is one matter that we have yet to clear up." He said, standing up from his chair and walking around from behind his desk. Puzzled, Kiera watched him walk towards one of the many shelves that lined the walls and pick up an ancient-looking hat and head back towards her. _I hope he doesn't expect me to wear that._ She thought to herself.

"Don't worry, it's not part of your uniform." he chuckled as he assured her, as if he had read her mind. "No, this is for the Sorting."

"The Sorting?"

"Yes. It will place you in your house."

"I see."

"We usually do this your first year, but we can certainly do it now. If you'll please," he said, motioning to an empty chair. Kiera sat in it, waiting for whatever was suppose to happen next.

As the Headmaster placed it on her head, time seemed to slow.

"Ah, miss Vogel," she heard "you're certainly an interesting one." Confused, she looked about her, the Headmaster wasn't moving and his lips – though mostly hidden by his long beard – had not moved at all, she had been sure.

Then she noticed the hat, on her head and yet not. It was talking to her. "I beg your pardon?" She couldn't help but ask, still thoroughly in shock.

"I'm just trying to decide where to place you." It said.

"Does it matter?" She asked, slightly irritated.

"Of course it does," it began to explain, "Where I place you will inevitably help guide you into the young woman you are destined to become." It paused, as if sensing her growing irritation.

"Destined? Don't you give me any of that destiny cra-"

"You see, that's exactly what I mean!" It laughed. "That attitude would certainly become a Slytherin. Though there's certainly more to you than just your temper..."

"I hardly think..." Kiera began in protest.

"...and sense of entitlement." The Sorting Hat finished. "There's also a part of you that genially believes in the novel idea of _doing what's right _and working towards _the greater good_. Very admirable, though you may be somewhat misguided in what you consider those things to be at the moment." It observed.

Kiera sat, feeling somewhat exposed. "And what house would those feelings get me into?" She asked.

"Gryffindor." It said with an air of mischief in its voice.

"Place me wherever you wish." She said, tiring of the conversation.

"I shall," it assured her, "though I warn you, you may soon regret it."

"Hmm." She said defiantly.

Time began to speed back to its normal pace and just as the Headmaster placed the Sorting Hat on her head, it bellowed out, "Slytherin!"

Professor Dumbledore lifted it back up and walked to place it back where it belonged. "I'm sure Professor Snape will be delighted to have a new student in his house." he said, a gleam in his eye and a smile on his face. Kiera only raised her brow in response. "Come, we should get to the ceremony, it will begin soon and we must still introduce you to everyone."

The Great Hall was as magnificent as ever; Dumbledore taking the occasion – as every other occasion - to decorate to extremes that surely only his mind could conjure. Though again, Draco had long since failed to see its beauty.

He walked into the hall with Crabbe and Goyle, who were sufficiently chastised for earlier events.

Heading towards the Slytherin table, Draco scanned the room, looking for Kiera, whom he had lost sight of in the almost-stampede out of the train.

Table by table he looked. The Slytherin table – though he was sure he knew every one of his kinsman in green. Nothing. The Hufflepuffs. Nothing. Thank the merlin she wasn't one of them. Ravenclaw. Though it would have been acceptable, nothing.

He groaned. Surely she wasn't a Gryffindor... Reluctantly he searched; glancing at Potter and his friends, inwardly scowling at the thought of Kiera sitting among them. After a long while of searching, still nothing. _Maybe she got held up somewhere._ He thought to himself.

"Shanndra Bellow." Came McGonagall's voice. Apparently the Sorting had begun. Draco shrugged. Might as well watch.

Finally the group of first-years were down to the last student. Draco stifled a yawn as the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers for their newest member.

"Now that our new students have been sorted into their respective houses, we have a few announcements." Draco turned to see the Headmaster gesturing his arm forward as if beckoning someone to follow. "This year we have a transfer student from Durmstrang."

Draco's – as well as everyone else's – gaze turned towards the head table, from which a previously unseen young woman walked confidently forward to stand by the headmaster.

"Kiera." Draco muttered to himself.

"This is Kiera Vogel. She will be joining us for the remainder of her school years. She has been previously sorted and will be joining the Slytherin house. I expect all of you to make her feel welcome."

Draco grinned as everyone clapped for the new student and his table erupted into cheers.


End file.
